Don't Go Poking The Bear
by Peta2
Summary: No one can deny Merle's loyalty to his brother, but can Carol stop him from charging out to save Daryl where Glenn's fists and Beth's raised gun cannot?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N It's now official…I have a sickness…a Walking Dead sickness where I just can't stop writing/thinking/dreaming about these characters. Thought I'd throw this one out there before the new episode, which will HOPEFULLY/FINALLY have some Carol storyline guts to it! This is meant as a oneshot, but sadly, I can still see more happening with it. Whether I will still have that inspiration after the new episode airing tonight, I can't say for sure…but here it is anyway. Rated M, at this stage, for language but who knows what else can happen?**

At first when she'd heard the shot, she'd smiled. She figured Merle had finally stepped over the line, pissed off an increasingly bitter and frightening Glenn, and copped a bullet to the head. Then she imagined Daryl losing it like he had so long ago at the quarry, and felt ashamed of herself for taking pleasure in something that would surely cause pain to Daryl—if no one else. So before another shot could ring out—and she wasn't so surprised that it had only taken one to achieve Merle's silence, instead only wishing it had been so easy taking out the Governor—Carol ran back into the prison and slammed through the doors leading back to the group.

She wore Daryl's set of keys on her belt, having almost melted at his feet as he transferred the responsibility of keeping them safe over to her when he'd headed out with Rick and Herschel that morning. She unlocked the door that would give her entrance to their common room, and then deflated when she could see Beth, gun still in her hand, and a cowering yet irritated Merle. Who was still stubbornly alive and completely not shot.

She looked back and forth at her people, at her family, and her eyes hardened. Both Glen and Merle were already sporting bruises, but the blood that dribbled from Merle's lip seemed to fascinate her. Even without asking she knew that this blow up was long overdue, but she couldn't help still feeling disappointed that it had happened at all. Feeling disgusted with both men, Carol turned her eyes to the girl with the gun and asked her what happened.

"Merle was tryin' to leave," she answered simply with a shrug of her shoulders, and Carol cocked a brow, knowing it could be anything but.

"Merle? What's goin' on?" She looked at him shrewdly, trying to assess him and realised she'd been doing that every single time she'd been near him since Daryl had brought him back. She was still far from sure she'd made any progress in working out the puzzle that was him.

"I ain't sittin' here while my brother's out there with the Governor. That fucker is sure as shit plannin' on none of them walkin' away from that meetin' alive."

Her gaze clashed with his and Carol sucked in a deep breath. There was real feeling in those baby blues and she was shocked that she hadn't seen it before. Behind all his brash insults, his manipulative manner, he was a man that deeply loved his brother, and being that she felt the same, she couldn't fault his need to do _something _to make sure Daryl came back to the prison alive.

But she couldn't let him leave. Leaving could get Daryl killed as much as leaving him there could. They had no idea what was going on at the meeting point—whether it was a legitimate attempt to negotiate as Andrea had said, or if it was an ambush. But how was she going to get through to him, get him to understand that if they interfered, then Daryl's—and Rick's and Herschel's—blood would be on their hands if it all went wrong.

"Have you ever trusted Daryl?"

The question seemed to shock him deeply, and Merle rocked back on his heels, his lips pressing together in a hard, firm line while his eyes narrowed dangerously. She could see he wasn't going to answer and felt sad that maybe he'd never had the opportunity to be in Daryl's hands rather than Daryl always in his. She'd been kept safe all this long year by the younger brother and he'd done everything within his power to prove to her how good he was—how exceptional a man he was. She did more than trust Daryl with her life, she owed it to him.

"I do," she confided, irritated when her voice came out a little hoarse and the group immediately picked up on it, looking inquisitively at her. It wasn't anything they didn't already know, how very deeply she cared for the brusque redneck that saved her on so many levels every single day, but it was the first time she'd ever gave her feelings a voice to any of them. "I do, Merle, and it's killin' me to watch him leave this place every time he goes off to do somethin' dangerous."

Merle narrowed his eyes at her some more and took a step toward her, his body crowding her space.

"Then do somethin' the fuck about it. Come with me and we'll go get 'im back."

"No."

"What?" He reared back, disgusted in what he saw to be her weakness. Her fear. "You afraid or somethin'? All talk but unless Daryl's 'ere to kick your ass along, you're full of shit?" he snarled at her, furious to the point of his spittle splashing her in the face.

She refused to back down. She was not the cowering type anymore. Fighting for your life against the dead that wanted to consume your flesh could do that for a formerly abused wife, she'd found, and she wasn't handing over her control to another bully of a man, no matter how much she loved his brother.

"Afraid?" She took her own step forward, got right up into his face but instead of anger she surrendered herself to sincerity. "You bet your ass I'm afraid. We go into that situation with no information, no idea what is goin' on and one step wrong he could be dead." Carol snapped her fingers viciously in his face to make her point. "Just like that." A tear slithered from one eye and she brushed it harshly from her check, impatient for him to see her point and angry that tears had tumbled into it yet again. "Phillip Blake is hell bent on killin' us all, and you're right, he could do it one by one, with Rick and Daryl and Herschel being the first to go, but I don't think so. I don't think he wants Andrea to really know yet what a psycho he is. He still thinks she's gullible—and maybe she is. I don't know or care at this point, but I think right now, Daryl is the safest he's going to be. We go in there on the attack, that could all change in seconds."

Merle stepped back, eyeing her carefully. He couldn't fault her argument, already coming to the conclusion that his emotions were irrationally affecting his judgement. He had a ton of years to catch up on protecting Daryl, and this had looked like a damned good time to start, but the little woman had a valid point. He knew the Governor—and he knew his men. Daryl's first weapon was his crossbow—Menendez worked with guns. "Why you ain't callin' him Gov'ner like everyone else?"

Her blood ran cold with hatred. "He's just a man, Merle. He didn't earn the title, he took it with lies and false promises. I'm not respectin' a man that can kill innocents just for the sake of power. It's a mean world we're livin' in now. Don't you think it'd be better if we had men in charge worthy of respect?" She paused, knowing her words struck him and seeing his memories playing across his face as he remembered his own part in the Governor's force. "Like Rick? Like Daryl?"

He lowered his head in concession, withdrawing a little in his thoughts. "We aren't riskin' anyone's life today. I have to trust that Rick knows what he's doing, and Daryl will make sure of it." The room was quiet, everyone watching the interplay with awe. It wasn't the first time Carol had stepped up to offer support for their leader or even various members of the group, but it was the first time she'd expressed her true, heartfelt opinion to them at large of how she felt about Daryl.

The fight seemed to ease from Merle and his shoulders slumped, his body thudding against the wall. Crisis averted, thought Carol with satisfaction, and she even allowed a small part of her heart to be grateful that Merle lived to breathe another day. Daryl would be pleased, at least, and now that she knew without any shadow of doubt where Merle's loyalties lay, she was kind of relieved about it too.

"Glenn, I'm going to take Merle with me to the gate. We'll wait for the others to get back."

Glenn nodded, relieved at her suggestion and keen to get Merle away from under their noses. His sheer presence was hard enough to deal with, but when the man opened his mouth it took all their efforts not to aim a gun at his head.

"Great idea, Carol. One thing, though. If he tries anything, shoot him in the balls." Before Merle could attack him for the suggestion, Glenn ducked through the door and went about his preparations for battle.

Carol didn't even bother to try and hide her grin as she held her arm out to indicate to Merle that he should head out to the yard before her. He submitted without argument, his one good hand stuffed in his pants pocket. They made it to the fence and Carol sidled up to the gate, doing her best to see beyond the walkers up their long driveway. She wondered if she never broke her stare, if she never wavered from watching, that the car would suddenly appear on the road, dust torn up behind it as their men returned home, either broken or with news she was sure she didn't want to hear.

"You know, if you're plannin' to shoot me in the balls, you better aim low." Merle chuckled as he dug his shoulder into the fence and angled his body so he could take in her all in, nice and slow.

"Trust me, Merle. Your balls have never crossed my mind, low or otherwise." She didn't even look at him, couldn't as she waited and watched, a buzzing in her head telling her that surely they'd be back soon. How long did it take for an evil bastard to warn them that he'd be coming and that he planned to kill every last one of them?

"Well, now, I'm thinkin' that might actually be a real shame." There was a suggestion in his voice that surprised Carol. She wasn't sure that Merle had actually even looked at her since he'd been within the prison walls. She'd avoided him like the plague and when she'd not managed to get away from his presence in time, he'd acted like she wasn't even in the same space. Now all of a sudden he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her, and unlike that little thrill she'd had when Axel had called her a lady, Merle's lust-filled perusal just made her feel dirty.

"You know what happened to the last guy who tried to get fresh with me, Merle?"

She stared out the gate, stared as if her life depended on it.

"Well I know it weren't Daryl or he'd have got lucky. Boy's never been lucky in 'is whole sorry life," Merle drawled as he leered and stared at her ass.

"Let me guess, Merle. You're the one always gettin' lucky?" Carol clucked with disbelief, refusing to look at him. "He got shot in the head. That's what you'll get for takin' any interest in me, so take a hint and go find somethin' else to do."

"Oh come on," he said in a growl and Carol felt it grate right up the length of her spine. "A little Merle lovin' could be just what the doctor ordered. We might only have days to live, sweet thang. How 'bout you an' I take a little time out and enjoy some of the sins of the flesh?"

When Carol looked up, her eyes wide and incredulous, she released a harsh breath at how close he'd moved to her.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Completely serious, sugar. You've had your chance with Daryl for a year now. Boy's not in'erested. Me…I am. Hop on and let's give it a twirl." He eyed her up and down, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and Carol—if she'd been in any other place in any other time—might have felt a thrill at having Merle's interest. And he wasn't entirely wrong. Every attempt at flirtation with Daryl had gone down about as fast as the Titanic. The thought of bumping uglies with Merle made her feel sick to her stomach. She _really _hoped he was just teasing.

Before she could say anything—shoot him down or offer herself on a silver platter—the sound of a car speeding toward the prison gate distracted her and she heaved a tremendous sigh of relief while hauling the gate open.

"Looks like we didn't need to go on a rescue mission after all," she said, her eyes peeled for signs of Daryl as soon as he stepped out of the car, swinging his new crossbow immediately to his back. Herschel hobbled out next, leaving Rick to slowly alight from the car, his face twisted with news she already knew they didn't want to hear.

"Meeting inside in ten minutes," he told them, his voice rough and worn from emotional exhaustion. Herschel followed him inside, leaving Carol alone with both Dixon brothers and making her feel rather nervous. One she wanted so badly she could taste it, the other already leaving a bad taste in her mouth even though she'd never touched him.

Daryl stood in front of her, looking scruffy and tired, and Carol could do nothing more but smile. Spending any kind of time with him felt like a blessing these days, especially since he came back with Merle. He'd been keeping his distance. She didn't understand why, though maybe he'd felt guilty for leaving in the first place, despite the peace he'd seemed to make with Rick, but with her he stayed as far from her as he could usually get and it hurt.

He looked between her and Merle and frowned. "What's Merle doin' out here without a gun?" He was asking her, like she had any control over what Merle did and didn't do, only this time she supposed she had being partway instrumental in making sure he didn't get a bullet in the brain.

"Was just tellin' the little lady how much she'd enjoy a ride on ol' Merle before the world goes to shit for the second time."

Daryl's eyes almost bugged out of his head and he took a step back from them both, glance darting between his brother and Carol like he was caught in the middle of something he couldn't understand.

"The fuck?" Daryl looked a bit green and Carol felt a flutter in her chest. If he'd walked away with a careless nod at them both, her heart would have been shattered completely, but his reaction gave her hope. Having no words to tell him that Merle was making a play for her because Daryl himself wasn't, Carol shot Merle a dirty look and made tracks after Rick. If they were all about to die she may as well know about it. Wasn't sure how she could prepare for dying, but she might as well hear if Rick had a plan. Might as well see if Daryl got a clue and saw the value in sharing their last days together. If not, maybe in honour of her beloved vibrator she should give closer thought to Merle's proposal. If she was going to die, she may as well go out with a bang. She started laughing before she was completely out of earshot of the boys. The world really was coming to an end if she was considering hanky panky with Merle.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N… **With this instalment, I definitely feel like this one is finished. Thank GOD! Thank you all who liked the first part—not really sure if this one quite falls into the same line, but it was a mission that is now complete. **wipes brow** I want to say a huge thank you raizingkain2001 who is not only the most wonderful friend/cheering squad a girl could ever have, but who also wrote Daryl's little speech for me. It's wonderful to write with you again, Tam. **

God. It seemed like she couldn't get away from him. Everywhere Carol turned, Merle was within reach, his lecherous eyes crawling over her body like a man dying of thirst. His one good hand accidentally brushing against her thigh, her side, her back and shit, even her _ass _on one stunning occasion, was sending Carol into a sex-driven spin that she'd never realised was possible. And for every attempt at familiarity from Merle, was a counter-attempt from Daryl to squeeze as far away from her attention as he could.

When Merle leaned across her at dinner and blatantly brushed his fingers against her breast, she squawked like a chicken and flew back, somehow managing in a spectacular display of her uncoordinated brilliance to dump her entire bowl of stew down her front.

"Shit."

Carol jumped to her feet, blocking out the concerned talk of her family and stomped away, running up the stairs and ripping her sodden shirt from her body and hurling it against a wall. Not until her back was bare and she was scrambling for another clean top did she register the heavy boots on the stairs behind her and panic at Merle arriving while she was half naked.

With a desperate squeak, she seized up her pillow and held it across her breasts just as Daryl appeared in her doorway and cast a shadow over her.

He opened his mouth to say something but seemed arrested by the sight of her bare shoulders peeping over the top of the pillow. Carol shook, dying a little with embarrassment that she wasn't even shaking from anger or fear. Oh no, she was shaking because Merle had her so riled up and desperate for sexual release she was a hot tamale ready to crash into the first male body that came her way.

Huh. That looked like it would be Daryl.

"Get in here. Now," she hissed at him, her eyes wild and terrifying.

Daryl stepped forward, his face the very picture of fear but for the first time he was pushing beyond that, his eyes flitting from one patch of exposed flesh to another and Carol even fancied that the frown drawing his brows together might be from the obvious effort he couldn't hide to try and see _through _her prison regulation pillow to see her personal pillows behind it.

When he was a step and a half away from her, she started shaking even more, the urge to throw herself at him barely contained. What a disaster that would be, she already knew, and felt like screaming at him for being so clueless and broken when they were probably going to die soon and she needed him _not _to be.

"You gotta control Merle," she said, her voice cracking with the heat of desire as he seemed to be compelled to move closer.

"Huh?"

"Get him the hell away from me, Daryl."

He blinked at her and there it was again, that cluelessness that made Carol want to scream and kick him in the shins.

"You ever wonder how I got through fifteen years married to a man like Ed? You think he satisfied me in any way at all? I had…toys, Daryl." Her face flamed hot and red but still she took that final step so that only her pillow was between them. "A woman has needs and I've been pretty good about ignoring them for the last year because some idiot is too blind to do anything about it, but now Merle is stirring it up and I don't want him. Please. _Please _get him to back away before I end up doing something I'll regret."

There was an unexpected smile on Daryl's lips that ripped the breath from her lungs.

"You callin' me an idiot, or is that honour meant to go to Rick?" Her look of revulsion made him chuckle. "Herschel?"

"Seriously?"

"If Merle has you all hot and bothered," he said, eyes darting away from her face and looking down at the pillow and the valley of her breasts flattened behind it, "then maybe you should take him up on his offer. I ain't heard any complaints 'bout him before."

Carol's mouth dropped open. It was a torturous ten seconds before she snapped her jaw closed and glared at him. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

"Go on, tell me how you really feel," Daryl scoffed, hurt.

It was enough to dull some of the sexual overload that was shorting her brain circuits, softening her face as she looked up at him and completely failing to hide the love she felt for him.

"Okay," she agreed, taking in a deep breath for courage. "You're my hero. You save me and save me until I can barely keep my feet underneath me. You make me want to be better, fight more, give more, take less and when I actually manage to get you to smile, I think I might melt into a puddle at your feet. I crave your touch and sometimes can't sleep at night because I know I'll never have it and now that we're probably about to die, I can't stand being around you another minute without you knowing you're everything to me. And I _could _have sex with Merle, but I haven't worked out how to turn off my gag reflex where he's concerned. And even if I can't ever have you," she closed her eyes, a tear squeezing past her lid in the ultimate act of betrayal, "I'll have no one else because I don't want any other man to touch me."

Her hand did shake from fear now as she lifted it and placed her palm against the side of his face, the room charging with electricity around her as her eyes clashed with the molten blue of his and then, without any control at all, slid to his lips. Her breathing became ragged, pushing the pillow between them back and forth in a dizzying display of excitement. He hadn't stepped back, hadn't bolted from her words or her touch and now the secret was fully revealed, though none of it could have been a surprise. Anyone with eyes could have seen how she felt about him, and she figured she'd seen a little of it reflected back at her a time or two in the past. What the both of them lacked was courage and now with the devil at the door, they'd run out of time.

How long did she wait? How long could she stand him standing there, staring into her face without moving, without reacting, without taking more than just this touch of his cheek against her fingers before she quite literally _died_ from waiting? Maybe this was his way of not saying no, she thought hysterically and then stopped breathing completely when she felt one hand snake under the pillow and settle on her hip.

"You want me to put an arrow in Merle's head for touching your ass this mornin'?" The question was accompanied by the act of his fingers moving up her side, her naked side, so slowly drifting up to tickle and tease her ribs.

"Yes," she hissed, hardly knowing what it was he said and not caring in the slightest. Except…"Make that two arrows. He touched my breast just now," she confided airily, not recognising the seductive hush that spilled past her lips.

His lower body pushed into hers, no pillow in the way there, and Carol moaned. He leaned into her, his mouth breathing hot air against her neck and then his lips grazed her ear.

"Wanna know how I really feel about you?" he growled huskily, and she stilled, panic raising its ugly head. Not once had she ever had her love returned the way the fairy tales had said it should be and now she was terrified that, after laying out her heart for Daryl to see, he was going to go ahead and slaughter it completely.

She shook her head against him, suddenly terrified and he jerked up and looked at her in surprise. Her courage at telling him what he meant to her was the last of it she had, now that the tables were turning she'd scrunched the leftovers into a little bucket and kicked it out of sight.

"Well, I'm tellin' ya anyway. Seems only fair."

Carol nodded slowly, fearfully, her body hyper-aware as Daryl's gentle fingers found the curve under her breast and then swirled around it to settle above and just below her shoulder. He pulled back so his forehead was barely a hair away from hers, looking down to steal a glance of the formerly forbidden behind that pillow and holding her breath, Carol loosened her grip on it.

He sucked in a breath as the curve of her breast became visible and his eyes shot to hers, guilty blue eyes shining as beautiful as a cloudless sky. His calloused hand left her flesh to cup her face and Carol's courage came rushing back, her lips parting, ready to receive whatever words he was about to share, and then take the reward of his mouth in a kiss she just knew would defy every ounce of her imagination and smash her preconceptions to pieces. The warmth in her belly spread outward, her limbs feeling the seductive laziness of desire as he finally opened his mouth and let his secret out.

"Ain't no secret that I flat out don't like most people. You knew that from the start and never let it faze you. Always kept after me and kept after me until I finally started believin' the things you've been preachin' at me. No one has ever built me up the way you have, or had so much blind faith in me. Or made me feel like being the man you needed." He stopped to gauge her reception of his words and Carol realised that she'd never known that simply breathing could be so painful. He closed the space, forehead against forehead, nose bumping against nose, and dropped his voice to a slow, sexy drawl that Carol knew without a shadow of a doubt was completely unconscious. "Ain't no way I'm gonna let anyone-least of all my brother-steal that away from me."

She wasn't sure who made the final move. All she knew was that his lips covered hers, his breath became hers and with the devil on their doorstep, she finally knew what it was like to hold her man in her arms.

Merle could go hang.


End file.
